The little ports are looking a bit muddy and bedraggled and some houses had recent repairs to the roofs, but there didn't seem to be too much damage. Around here the houses are mostly out of reach of the highest tides. However, at the Port du Charon where my favourite carrelets (fishing huts on stilts) are... well, they are no longer. Only the ancient one that reminds me of the Flying Dutchman is still much the same; most of the others are reduced to poles sticking out of the mud. The newly-painted one with the curtains is completely gone; the one where we watched the the fisherman pull his lunch out of the sea and slap it on a barbecue is still there in part, looking very sad.
Even the area where I usually park is no longer usable because its sheltering stone wall is scattered around. Two disconsolate fisherman were wandering around it, examining the wrecks and reporting on a mobile. By the end of the call they seemed to gather some energy and purpose and stomped off in a determined fashion, giving me hope that the huts will rise anew very soon.
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